Why I’m Not Giving Up Complaining For Lent

bad days

Tell me again how you won’t break anything by playing ball in the house.

Shhh … do you hear that? It’s the sound of sanctimony hitting Facebook in 3, 2, 1…Lent is coming, sinners! I kid, I kid, as I still believe in religion and its rites, rituals, and practices despite my current status as a fallen away Catholic. I’m floundering a bit or, I guess you could say, sans religion. But I’m still a big believer in God and spirituality and treating others as you’d like to be treated, so that ought to count for something, right? It’s just, well, Lent. Sometimes I find it a bit ridiculous if I’m being honest. People who don’t even go to church on a regular basis give things up for 40 days, like it’s actually going to count for something. Like St. Peter’s going to be at the pearly gates and say, “Ehhhh, well, you’re kind of on the bubble but there was that one time you gave up Diet Coke for Lent.” PEOPLE! Give up Diet Coke because it’s fucking poison (and, yes, I drink the poison on occasion). I’ll tell you one thing I refuse to give up and that’s complaining. A lot of people say that’s what they’re giving up for Lent. And there was even a thing a while back where you got Livestrong-esque bracelets for being in a “No Complaining” club or some such nonsense. Who are these people? Fucking unicorns!? How do you get through a day let alone weeks and months without complaining? I’m not a doctor but I have to be honest with my unofficial diagnosis: You’re fucking crazy. You’re going to get sick and get ulcers and mouth sores and one day, just when you can’t take it anymore, someone is going to push you too far and you’re going to shove a melon up someone’s ass in the cold section of Costco and do 5 to 10 in state prison. Is that what you want? You’ve seen Orange is the New Black, right? That shit is scary, especially if you don’t consider hair-pie to be a delicacy (sorry, Mom and Dad).

As humans, we worry about karma and we’re constantly trying to keep ourselves in check about the blessings we have. This is a good thing! Everyone feels the weight of the world on certain days over simple things like endless laundry piles, kids’ projects, never-ending practices and games, and other rather mundane yet stressful life items. Then we think about the Sandy Hook parents or our neighbor who has breast cancer and think, “Oh no, I shouldn’t complain. I’m so blessed.” And then we post some shitty fake pic of our happy lives on Facebook with “#blessed” and make everyone else who has had a rough day feel like chumps. Listen – we can gripe about the daily grind and still be eternally grateful to have our kids in our lives and to have our health. Remember, Mama did always tell us there would be days like this, and Mama didn’t say, “Never complain or God will smite you on the spot.” God isn’t a vengeful dude! Yes, bad things happen to bad people but bad things happen to good people, too. It sucks and it isn’t fair but it’s no less true. And by all means, if you’re a Sandy Hook parent or you have cancer then you have all the more right to blow this shit out of the water when it comes to complaining. Get a fucking megaphone. Yell, scream, punch your pillow and scream at your neighbor (or do the reverse of that but, again, LAWS).

And, listen – we currently have a lying, illiterate, pedantic, turnip-resembling, racist fucking mess at the helm of our country. If we don’t complain now, things are going to get shittier and fast. We complain! We stomp our feet and call our congress people and scream at the world, “This ain’t right.” Trust me, we don’t want them thinking that we are A-OK with the steaming pile of dukie this guy is dishing out at our nation’s podium. There’s a huge difference between being a whining Debbie Downer and letting out a few gripes here and there. If you’re finding that your friends are canceling hangouts with you because you’re Armageddon Amy, then stop that shit. Stop it right now. Get a therapist – they’re paid to listen, and that will free up your time with friends to talk about all the good crap. But remember how Charlotte went crazy on Sex and the City because she didn’t feel like she should/could complain about her kids!? If you want to sit down at a girls’ night, guzzle your first glass of wine, and let out a, “Sweet Baby Jesus, if I heard the word ‘Mahhhhhhhhhhm’ one more time, I thought I was going to lose my shit,” I say go right ahead. You know what’s great about that? You’re going to return home that night, all wined up and relaxed and yet just the right amount of tired and you’re going to kiss those kids on the head and thank God you have them in your life. And that’s okay.

So, yeah, Lent – do you what you want about that.

 

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